


Mercy

by HoneyGrunge



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Animalistic, Barbed Penis, Blood, Blood and Injury, F/M, M/M, Mind Rape, Other, Rape, Ritual Sex, Sith Rituals, The Force, Torture, Violence, Voyeurism, mind breaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-23 07:05:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18148673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyGrunge/pseuds/HoneyGrunge
Summary: Darth Maul has selected you for his coming of age ritual, in which he will finally be recognized as a man among the Sith.>Written for readers of any gender/sexual identity, your gender and genitals are not assumed





	Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently there are no other fics here on AO3 that depict Maul with a barbed penis, at least that contain the tag. I try to cater to blank spaces in fandoms, and I've heard a lot of people suggest this. Personally, I like the idea, so I just had to write it <3

The first thing you register is the steely coldness. Wrapped around your wrists, still allowing you to move but effectively trapping you. You blink, eyes fluttering, head pounding as you slip back into consciousness.

"Ahhhhhhhh, our lovely volunteer is coming to their senses," a skin-crawling voice drawls.

"Wh-where am I? What's going on?" you whimper, tugging at the restraints and staring at the deep shadows with wild eyes.

"Calm yourself, my dear. You should be proud. My apprentice has selected you to fulfill an important ritual."

A hooded form materializes out of the misty darkness, two glowing orbs staring at you from beneath the black cowl. The gaze sparks a terrified shiver, and only just then do you notice that you're completely naked, wrists connected to shackles that extend up into a cavernous ceiling.

"Just let me go, oh gods please, PLEASE I'll give you anything, my bank account information, my phone, anything!!!"

The voice kicks up a deep cackle, two pale hands clasping to the front of the robes. The head shakes, mocking your desperation.

"Oh child, a phone cannot provide an unwilling sacrifice."

As they speak, another figure joins them. A naked young Zabrak, just barely an adult, boasting intricately designed skin of midnight black and a rich cherry red. Short yet deadly horns crown his head, lending even more fear to the fierce fanged snarl and magma eyes. Your legs shake, piss streaming down your thighs as he starts to circle you, reaching down to work at the fleshy sheath between his legs.

"Isn't he magnificent?" the hooded captor whispers, watching the predator prepare himself for the attack. "Yessss....let the terror rage through your veins, make yourself delicious for this Sith, quiver as he uses you to make himself a man."

The Zabrak is closer now. You dare a glance between his muscular thighs, sobbing as a thick cockhead slips past his sheath, bright blood red and glinting with slick in the dim light of the room. The rest of it follows; you squint teary eyes to study it. It looks...textured?

And just then, you remember.

You and the rest of your classmates gasping at the sex ed teacher's explanation that Dathomirian Zabraks have barbed penises.

And acidic ejaculate.

Not enough to eat through flesh, but enough to cause horrific pain and lasting damage. Of course, there are multiple ways to engage in pleasurable intercourse with one of his species with the aid of barriers, or surgical barb removal. But otherwise.....

You scream, thrashing against the chains. They tighten in response, yanking you up, drawing a pained yelp as your shoulders creak in complaint. Then, they snap loose, sending you stumbling with another scream. 

A red flash out of the corner of your eye, and then the horned man slams into you, hissing and spitting as his fangs sink into your shoulder. The cowled person laughs again, reveling in your agony.

"Yes, YES! Destroy them! Rape them! Use their body and feed your craving, the craving I have denied you since your body began its sexual growth."

Your attacker howls, sharp nails tearing through the sensitive skin of your hips and all the way down to your ass. Warm blood gushes down your legs and you fall forward, limp descent cruelly halted by the cuffs.

The Zabrak takes advantage of your half suspension, digging his hands into your thighs and yanking them up, up around his lean hips. You kick, begging for mercy, but he snorts in return, snapping his hand back and slamming his knuckles into your jaw. Nothing breaks, but the white pain is enough to momentarily blind you.

"Now, our little darling, if you don't fight him you may survive. If so, you will receive the honor of being Maul's breeding slut. We are not entirely dismissive of a slave's offerings."

Annoyed with the awkward position, Maul yanks at the chains, dragging them down until you're slumped in a heap on the cold stone ground. It's already slippery with your blood; vomit threatens to fill your mouth as he kneels and begins to cover you. He's less violent now that you're submitting, hands sliding up your torso and forcing you to lie back for him.

"Please don't, please don't," you cry, and he makes eye contact, expression unreadable and cold.

"Do not fight me," he softly warns, reaching up to drag his nails down your cheek, marking you and eliciting a pained squeak.

You shudder, watching him as he maneuvers himself, forcing a knee between your quaking legs and fixing you with a snarl when you resist. You quickly give in, spreading your legs and whimpering as he lowers himself, caging your head between his toned arms.

His face comes down within mere inches of yours, clean breath tinged with the iron scent of your own blood washing over your face. You expect him to bite you, but he doesn't. 

A scratchy black tongue starts licking your cuts, trailing down and scraping across your chin as he starts to make a faint purring noise. It's unexpected and almost...gentle?

A sharp snap cracks in the air, and he twists, raising a hand to defend himself against the barbed whip. The hooded man is right there, raising the weapon again and growling out a noise of dissatisfaction.

"NO WEAKNESS, NO MERCY, I DON'T CARE IF YOUR CYCLE MAKES YOU CRAVE TENDERNESS!!!!" he shrieks, whipping Maul again and screeching with laughter as a barb catches the tender flesh of Maul's exposed scrotum.

Maul grits his teeth, finally reaching down to steady himself at your entrance. His hips snap; his thick girth stretches you with a sharp burn. He pushes all the way in until his groin is flush against your heated skin, his soft sheath bunching up and drawing a pleasured snarl.

You blink, trembling and awaiting the withdrawal. His eyes lock with yours and his lips curl.

He gyrates backwards, dropping his face down to suckle at the bite he'd left on your shoulder.

The pain explodes deep in your core like a pipe bomb, and you can't help but scream once more. You're being torn, ruined, tortured. Every backwards pull drags his barbs against your abused flesh; your mind dissolves into incomprehensible gibberish and your endless screams echo in the lonely room. He is inside of you in more than one way: physically, but also mentally. Your mind is all encompassed by his force signature, feeding off of your terror, pain, and brokenness.

Finally, just as everything is beginning to go numb, he finishes.

The noise he makes is high pitched, entirely out of place with the situation; his face twists into an open-mouth look of sheer ecstasy.

You expect to feel the burning, but he rips away from you at the last second, onyx seed spurting out onto the ground, mixing with your blood and the bits of flesh that he's torn out of you.

"Why have you done this?" your onlooker asks, his voice taking on a deadly edge. "You know the punishment for failure: castration."

Maul looks terrified, falling back onto his elbows and staring up at the man.

"I...I wanted to reward them...for not fighting me...what good is such power if absolutely no mercy is shown? I do not want to damage them even more if I intend to keep them, master. Mercy is a helpful tool with slaves, they will trust me now."

The cowled figure considers, watching your broken and bleeding form as you wiggle helplessly, near unconsciousness from the pain and shock.

".....an odd choice, Darth Maul, but I will allow it. The Sith code allows for some variations in the belief system, as you know. But I will be closely monitoring you. If your mercy overextends the bounds of necessity, I will have you kill them. Now, rise, my apprentice. You are now a man and there must be a feast to celebrate."

"Yes, master," Maul returns, pushing himself up and glancing back at you before turning to leave. 

Just as your vision is tunneling, two med bots float into view, cooing with reassurance as you reach out with shaking hands.

You're lucky to have been chosen by Maul and not the Master himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr and Twitter: Maedhros36  
> I hope you enjoyed <333


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